If Godsend had been
made 50 years ago in black and white, it would be exactly the kind of thing I
enjoy watching late on Saturday nights when there’s nothing else on TV. That’s
because it’s full of the same campy plot devices and characters that make those
old films so great—a mad scientist, a “monster” (the product of science gone
wrong), non-stop “Don’t open that door!” suspense, and a musical score that’s
always ready to jump up and scare you even if nothing else will. Like many sci-fi
and horror films of the 1950s and 1960s, Godsend is also a cautionary
tale, not so much about cloning—which is Godsend’s main subject—but
about what happens when the power to do such “godlike” acts falls into the
wrong hands. In an era where technology borders on the miraculous, this is
truly a parable for our times.
However, viewers today are a
lot more sophisticated than they were in the 1950s. They’re not as apt to buy
in to the faulty premises and dubious science that make those old films so
laughable today. The intermittent titters I heard emanating from the audience
during scenes that were supposed to make them cover their eyes in horror was
ample evidence of that. Unfortunately, such devices are exactly what the makers
of this film expect us to take seriously. And it just doesn’t work.
That is not to say Godsend
is completely without suspense. Similar to films like The Omen, The
Shining, and Village of the Damned, this thriller gets most of its
mileage out of “creepy kid shots”—close-ups of the child/clone Adam (played
brilliantly by nine-year-old newcomer, and fellow Canadian, Cameron Bright) as
he tries to sort out who or what is messing with his head. It also includes its
fair share of “Gotcha!” moments that usually don’t amount to anything but still
give viewers a healthy shot of adrenalin.
Godsend also raises
some important questions about science, free will, and the conflict between
moral choices and human ability. For example, at a high point in the film,
Adam’s father (Greg Kinnear) confronts Dr. Wells (Robert DeNiro), who cloned
Adam, with the gravity of what he has done. Dr. Wells defends himself, saying,
“If I’m not supposed to do this, then why is it that I can?” Interestingly,
this confrontation happens in a church. And when it’s over, the entire building
goes up in flames, as if to signify that our ability to completely control the
reproduction process through cloning means we won’t be needing God’s services
anymore, thank you very much.
The problem is, Dr. Wells’
defense is essentially a copout. Just because we can do something
doesn’t mean we should. I could go out and kill someone anytime I want,
but does that make it right? Of course not. We can’t assume God condones such
activities just because he doesn’t stop us from doing them. In addition to
blessing us with tremendous abilities in science, technology, the arts, and so
forth, God also gave us the power of reason and an inherent sense of right and
wrong with which to regulate those abilities. Thus, it is up to us, not
God, to decide what we should and should not do. God isn’t about to step in
like an overprotective parent and make such decisions for us. If he did, how
could we ever grow and mature? However, like a good parent, God does provide us
with wisdom and guidance—if we are willing to listen to it. But in the end, how
we use that information is up to us. God respects our powers of
self-determination that much.
Adam’s parents, Paul and
Jessie Duncan, are slightly more willing than Dr. Wells to face up to the moral
consequences of their choices. However, like him, their ability to do so is
clouded over by grief. Like a child whose pet has just died, Adam’s mother
(Rebecca Romjin Stamos) cries that she doesn’t want another child; she wants
Adam! And, like a child, her reasons are pretty much self-centered. She feels
pain, and she believes getting “another” Adam will make that pain go away. But
there’s something sick about the idea of parents who are willing to go to such
lengths just to restore their peace of mind, to believe a lie so strongly that
eventually they have difficulty discerning it from the truth. I felt incredibly
sorry for “Adam 2” during most of this film. Not only was he battling for his
soul as a result of a sinister interference in the cloning process, he also had
to carry the emotional burden of two painfully needy adults whose real problem
wasn’t so much the loss of their first son as their inability to face up to
their own emotional deficits. Thankfully, the filmmakers had enough sense to
show that such denial of the truth will jump up and bite us sooner or later.
At the same time, I am
fairly certain that the choice the Duncans face in this film is one that many
couples will be facing in the not-too-distant future. Films like this are
useful when it comes to helping us think about how we would respond under
identical circumstances. It may begin with pets. That is, perhaps little Jimmy
really will be able to get his old dog back through the power of cloning. But
let’s be honest: If the ability to clone humans does become widely available
(as I suspect it will), do you really think we will be able to keep ourselves
from opening this “Pandora’s Box”? Like the Duncans, I suspect many other
grieving parents will be unable to resist the temptation to “replace” the child
they lost rather than walk through the grieving process. And their judgment
will be similarly clouded. I can’t help but think of the emotional and
psychological consequences for these cloned children. Think of the identity
crisis they will go through when they discover they are nothing more than a
“replacement.” No matter how much their parents dote on them, they will know
their parents don’t really love them; they merely love the memory of the child
that was lost.
Early on in the film, Paul, who is a high school
biology teacher, is considering a move from the tough inner-city school in
which he works to a better paying job in the suburbs. He realizes it is a good
opportunity for his family, but he feels such a strong loyalty to his students
that taking the job would be akin to selling out. Jessie disagrees. She wants
to move out to the suburbs, because she doesn’t like the thought of raising
Adam in the city. In what is supposed to be a heartwarming scene, she tells
Paul she respects his ethics, but when it comes to your children, sometimes
ethics have to take a back seat. Yikes. Fortunately, the rest of this film is a
powerful refutation of such fallacious moral reasoning.